


The Silence Of Falling In The Snow

by gala_apples



Series: Darkweb Delights [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Gags, Masturbation, Other, Outdoor Sex, Silence, Snow, Temperature Play, amateur porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 10:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19439296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: Michael gets to the point of fulfilling someone's kink request.





	The Silence Of Falling In The Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt silence/gags for seasonofkink.
> 
> The corset mentioned is embedded in the fic as well, but here's an additional link: [here](http://wearitout.co.nz/shop/costumes/buy/men-buy/pirates-men-buy/mens-halter-corset/).

Things ramp up a level when Michael reads Gavin’s post wishing someone would do something naughty in the snow, he’s missing home and their weather. It’s the first time Michael’s thought about a request post and genuinely believed he could fulfill it. Theoretically, it’d be super easy to jerk off in a backyard in suburban New Jersey. It’s more a question of character. Does he have the stones to actually provide action?

He waits until the sun sets, which is about four pm these days. Once he’s sure his parents are settled in the house, preoccupied by tv, Michael slinks outside and sits down. The plastic patio furniture is still outside, despite all the snow accumulation. They’re just not the kind of family that has enough ambition to haul everything indoors. The seat is cold, but at least there’s one layer of clothing between his balls and the plastic. 

Michael turns his front facing camera on, then sets his phone on the table. From there he can just push down the front of his pants and bare himself to the world. His sweatpants are dual purpose; they provide warmth and ease of dress. It’s a fucking rush to be genitals first to the universe. Yeah, he could get caught, but he’s doing something crazy, and he already knows he’s going to be applauded for it. _Gavin_ is going to applaud him. And he _won’t_ get caught, not as long as he stays completely silent.

Micheal slides lower in the seat and tilts his head up to the evening sky. The stars get blurred every few seconds as he exhales, it being more than cold enough to see your breath. He works the head of his cock and shudders as precome drools onto his fingers. He holds them out to the camera, not sure if the low light is capturing it, but hoping Gavin can see something when he watches this later. 

A minute in, and his breath hitches in what seems like a conspicuously loud way. Not quite a moan, but nothing good for his stealth mission. Michael pauses his hand on his cock and waits, ears perked to see if there’s any reaction from the world. Thankfully there’s nothing, but he’s still a little too on edge to just go right back to it. Michael tucks himself back in for the moment, and slips into the house for his target item. There’s a bin of outerwear near the door, and it’s a second’s work to get what he wants.

Resituated in his cold plastic chair, Michael checks that he’s still properly in frame, then puts a mitten in his open mouth. The wool feels weird on his tongue. The dry fibres stick. But he bets it looks good, palm and cuff hanging down over his chin. Very winter chic, for Gavin. Plus it’ll muffle any noises he might make.

The longer Michael sits, the more the cold plastic starts to bite into him. He starts shifting around on the seat, trying in vain to find a good spot. It’s so cold it’s burning. All of Michael’s skin is starting to feel hot and tight. He leans forward and scoops a handful of snow. He pushes his hoodie up and rubs the snow on his abs. It’s a shock to his system, the frigid substance making his thighs tense and his toes curl in his shoes. Michael knows it’ll start to melt with his body heat, but he also knows he’s been outside long enough that his surface temp is pretty low. It’ll take longer now than a snowball to the face in the day time sunshine would have. 

Michael gyrates desperately, trying to find any safe spot, but he’s burning up. The wind, the plastic, the snow, it’s all searing him from outside in. He bites down on the mitten, holds onto an armrest and jerks furiously, as fast as he can. Michael stops only once, to add a different technique to his self-imposed silence. He spits out the red yarn and scoops some of the now slush from his chest into his mouth. Can’t talk dirty with a full mouth, after all. It fully melts on Michael’s tongue, making his molars ache. 

When he comes his muscles contract. Michael doubles over, forehead nearly at his knees. He knows he should be worried about what angle the camera’s getting, but he just can’t unclench his body. He almost jizzes in his own face. Luckily the aim is a little bit off, and it just arcs into the snow. Michael hyperventilates for a minute, fogging his glasses in the process, then pulls his sweats back on and slinks into the house. There’s a difference between RISK and full hypothermia, and Michael intends to be on the less stupid side of the equation. 

He doesn’t edit the video much. What’s he going to do, add a commentary? There are a few pinned posts on the site about the tech aspect of things; good apps for editing, frame rate shit, pros and cons of face blurring. There’s even a post on how to add name burns if it’s a multi POV video. Despite having read all the posts in the past out of curiosity and boredom, Michael applies none of it. He just cuts thirty seconds of exhausted panting off the end of the comeshot, and the minute of retrieving the mitten, and calls it a day. 

Uploading the video provides a mess of feelings. Thrill, of course. Michael wouldn’t be a member of the site if x-rated charity didn’t appeal to him. Hope too, that Gavin -and Jeremy- will enthusiastically enjoy it. But there’s an uneasy feeling too, like should he really be going this far? Yeah people on the internet do it, but he’s not a People On The Internet. He’s just some dude in Jersey. And fucking annoyingly, there’s body image shit too. What if no one thinks he’s hot? He doesn’t want to sound like a teenage girl, but the concern is very solidly present.

Thankfully the site offers some much needed distraction so he doesn’t just sit refreshing until comments start appearing. At the top of the site each day is a featured post. Today’s is a meta post, wanting people to link to partially completed posts, to see if anyone can one up it and give the OP the scene of their dreams. Beyond needing to waste time, Michael’s genuinely curious, so he starts clicking things in the comments. One is a user wanting three people who look like clones, except for being different races, to have a threesome. Michael hesitates for only a minute before messaging FredoTrevFortyEight to tell them they’d be a great fit, if they have an acquaintance who looks similar. He likes Alfredo and Trevor, their content and their text comments. He’s a man, he can instigate friendships, goddamn it.

It’s close to midnight when Michael finally clicks back to his own profile. The hours upon hours of distracting himself from conflicting emotions have spun his mood, and it’s with a not entirely lucid calm that he clicks to his video post. Michael’s jaw drops once the page loads. In six hours he’s created such a long comment thread that there’s a horizontal scroll bar. At least fifty people have an opinion on his foray into porn. 

His first foray, he decides as he reads the comments. They’re a fucking balm to any jitters he had uploading his content. Everyone’s into him. There’s not a negative comment in the bunch, and what mere YouTube uploader could say that? And if he had fun, and got off, and everybody likes him, where’s the downside? Where’s the incentive to stop posting lewd shit? 

So as the weeks and months pass, Michael chips in where he can. He’s not particularly creative. When Gavin posts a request wanting someone to ‘make’ him wear their clothes, in whatever way they can think of, Michael’s got nothing. He watches Gavin’s replies stack up, a dozen or more, all of them different. One wants to steal his towel and clothes in a public gym, leaving him nothing else to wear out. One wants to sew him into custom made clothes so he can't get out of them without scissors. One guy posts a video reply and very obviously has a doll fetish, says shit about moving Gavin’s limbs to push them into garments while pacing a room laid out like a tea party. The guy who ‘wins’ somehow finds out Gavin’s address. It would be creepy, except all he does is mail Gavin a handmade corset, a [gorgeous low lying piece with thick halter straps and brass buckles](http://wearitout.co.nz/shop/costumes/buy/men-buy/pirates-men-buy/mens-halter-corset/). Michael mentally wishes the stranger well, and hopes for a request that he can fulfill soon. It’s a matter of time, after all, not inclination. He’s got four videos up now, and is willing to have more.


End file.
